


Little Indulgences

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gen fic. Garak insists Odo try an indulgence he has not experienced before. Post S4, so solid!Odo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Indulgences

“Come now, Odo, have you ever _had_ a bath?” Odo regards the tailor with disapproval, but he continues to look at him with that infuriating expression of pure _delight_ on his face. It truly is irritating how _happy_ the spy can be about the world.

“No. The standard showers are perfectly sufficient.”

“My dear Odo, you truly ought try it. Come now, hot, steaming waters surrounding you-” Garak sounds like he is ready to begin waxing poetic, so he feels easy enough about cutting the Cardassian off.

“ _No._ ” He says firmly, and that is the end of it. Garak looks at him with his ridiculous little smirk, and takes a sip of his drink. Odo, frustratedly, takes a bite of his meal.

He really ought have remembered Elim Garak's tendency to _remember_ things, very clearly and vividly to come back to when possible. He remembers this, unfortunately, when he stands in the doorway to the holosuite, staring at the steaming baths.

They're not baths in the way Garak had meant them at breakfast last week – hot springs, they are, steam rising up from the waters in the rocky outcrops, and about them are woods, keeping the springs hidden from view until one enters the clearing.

“Where is this?” Odo asks, and Garak steps inside in a smooth motion; the doors shut behind them with a thin sound.

“I believe these springs were loosely modelled on ones found on Vulcan.” Garak says in a light, easy tone, and Odo nods, stepping forwards; natural stairs are plain in the rock pieces, and he makes his way up them easily enough.

“I didn't know Vulcan could be so- vibrant.” Odo murmurs, looking to the trees and their vivid green leaves, the purple blossoms, the thick and heavy brown of their trunks. Garak lets out a quiet hum, thoughtful.

“Often described as a _desert_ planet, certainly, though it is not strictly true – I think in our times it is too often forgotten how planets can have such varied ecosystems, hmm? You know me as Cardassian, I know you as a _changeling._ Another generalization, in all truth: you know nothing of the region of Cardassia I came from, or what bearing that has on me-”

“Yes, I suppose- _what are you doing!?”_ Odo turns his head away, because in his time he has seen _far_ too many naked Cardassians, and Garak has never been high on his list of “wanted nude views”.

“My dear Odo, did you think I would be bathing fully clothed?” Odo waits for a moment, and then he glances back. Garak slides into the water, grey form quickly disappearing from view under the bubbling heat, and he regards the other man amusedly.

Even with that _smugness_ on his face, however, Garak has relaxed under the water, his head tipped slightly back, his eyes lidded. Odo notes, on some level, that the only other person Garak will lid his eyes like in front of on the entire _station_ is Julian Bashir, and he feels a discomfiting emotion not dissimilar to warm affection.

Odo scowls.

“Come, Odo. I did go to such lengths in order to procure this program.” Garak lies so smoothly, so convincingly. _Spy._ “Just for you!”

“No, you didn't. You've brought Doctor Bashir into this one before – I've heard him talk about it.” Odo points out, but he, carefully, begins to kick off his shoes. He sets them neatly aside, put together.

“With respect, my dear constable, the way Julian and I enjoy this program is _vastly_ different to this situation.” Odo makes a grim sound of disgust, making a face, and Garak chuckles.

“Good.” Odo mutters, and then he says, “Close your eyes.”

“ _Odo_ , I-”

“ _You_ look at every single man, woman and androgynous form that passes by your store, Garak.” Odo growls, and Garak _tuts_ at him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I do no such thing, my dear constable. I simply consider _tailoring_ when I regard such people.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Exaggeratedly, Garak huffs out a loud sigh, and then he closes his eyes. Odo is swift enough about removing his uniform – it's strange, he thinks, the feel of fabric being pulled over his flesh. So different to how it had been when he was a changeling still, and yet-

Not awful. Perhaps he is becoming _used_ to this solid form.

He drops his clothes aside, and then he moves forwards, setting his comm badge at the side of the pool before slipping rapidly into the water. It is _hot_. _Hot_ is the word for the springs, and yet the steaming water seeps immediately into him, going right through him in a way he could not _believe_. The warmth surrounds him on all sides, and the wetness is _strange_ , but not unpleasant – the pressure of the liquid is tremendous on his body, and he wishes he'd started doing this _weeks_ ago.

Odo lets out a long sigh; Garak opens one eye, looking at him with a satisfied expression. He opens his mouth, but Odo lifts one hand out of the water with his fingers pressed together and his palm flat.

“Be quiet.” Garak beams at him, and Odo relaxes back again. “It is- _soothing._ On my muscles.”

“And?” Garak prompts him swiftly enough.

“The heat is pleasing. The submergence is- I enjoy the pressure.”

“Dip your head under and feel the water in your hair.” Garak advises, and Odo hesitates for a few moments before closing his eyes and doing so. It feels _perfect_ , the water lifting his hair from his scalp and hanging weightless in the water for a moment, and when he raises his head it clings to his head.

“That feels _good_.”

“Yes.” Garak agrees, amused. He takes such _delight_ in Odo's experiences of humanoid pleasures, these days, and Odo would find it irritating, perhaps, if he were less subtle about it.

“Doctor Bashir to Constable Odo – is it right that there's an Andorian freighter coming in carrying silks soon enough?” Odo reaches up, tapping the badge swiftly enough to reply. Oddly, he is somewhat reluctant to take his hands from the water, enjoying the heated water perhaps a _little_ too much.

“Yes, that's correct. The captain is named P'aragh Meeny, and they trade in silks, gemstones and some sort of modern art.” is his easy answer.

“Oh, fantastic. I was thinking of getting some for Garak.” Julian says, and Garak hums thoughtfully.

“How _generous_ of you, Doctor.” Garak says from the other side of the bath, and there is a long pause as Bashir takes that in.

“Odo, is he in a holding cell again?” Doctor Bashir sounds so irritated at the idea, but not particularly _surprised,_ and Odo is amused despite himself, though he doesn't let it show.

“We're in holosuite 2, Doctor. I will be sending you the captain's contact information soon enough.”

“What are you in the holosuite for?” Bashir asks, perplexed.

“ _Doctor_ ,” Garak says in a smooth, low and _sneaky_ tone that Odo doesn't quite understand the significance of. “Might I remind you that holosuite interactions are very _private_?” Bashir coughs on the other end of the line.

“Ah, yes. Right, well, I'll see you two later.” The line drops off, and Odo turns his head, watching Garak with an expression of complete suspicion.

“What?” Garak says innocently, and Odo furrows his brow.

“What-”

“ _Private_ , my dear constable. Very private indeed.” Odo snorts, and then he lets himself fall under the water again, enjoying the heat, the water – it's _good_.

\---

“My thanks, for the use of the program.” Odo says that evening, later on.

“My dear constable, it's really no issue at all.” Garak says brightly, in as warm a tone as he ever uses. It is irritating, Odo supposes, that Garak manages to make one so _fond_ of him. Not that Odo would ever admit any _affection_ for the man – he refuses to recognize that one might consider the two of them _friends._ ”You could apply for a bathtub, you know. I have one.”

“As does Doctor Bashir.” Odo says with a roll of his eyes. “So I have heard. I will- consider it.”

“Breakfast at 800 tomorrow?” Garak asks, and Odo no longer feels a twinge of wanting to refuse. He nods his head.

“Agreed.”

 


End file.
